Shadow Walker
by Cheeseinacan
Summary: Those who were former heroes have no clue that evil's flairn' up again in a country far from their own and the hell that one starving bandit has to go through just to avoid fates worse then death...
1. Eine

Shadow Walker

Started: 1998ish

Ended: Who knows?

That's really, really sad. With that time frame in mind, beware that it may be a month to several until I bother adding new chapters.

God bless the public school system! (Translation: I'm 100% athiest! Please excuse spelling and grammatical errors) 

I do not own Nintendo or have any affiliation with them blah blah blah copyrighted characters used without permission blah blah blah may be unsuitable for children (I mean, c'mon, after all the country is named after beer). If your mommy and daddy find out that you've added a few more words into your daily vocabulary that aren't exactly…er, age appropriate, it ain't my fault, I gave you fair warning. Comments are welcome, send 'em to A_R_S@prodigy.net if ya don't mind (or just add a handy little review. 

Happy reading and don't try too hard.

***

This is how I was betrayed by destiny. 

Rain splattered the cobblestone drives of Verendez, a crowded metropolis almost completely consisting of town houses, apartments, stables and a large market at the very core. The people were soaked to the bone by this down pore that robbed the steamy, mid-spring afternoon of its sunlight. As I walked through the Village Square, I saw a great deal of things, hardly any of them good. The homeless and their children lined the walls, squatting in filth in their mismatching rags. The pleaded in vain for a few coins when ever the rare soldier, knight or anyone well-to-do passed; who paid no more attention then they would a fly that zipped past their ear. The children cried out because of the sharp pangs of hunger while a mother tried to soothe them, even though they were racked with pain as well. The only ones that seemed to fair well were the prostitutes that stood in the doorways to some of the inns. There were a few stands opened, they sold spoiled meat and stale bread at prices that were no less then murderous. It was like this in almost every city of Guinness. One must wonder how the country had managed to survive through seventeen years of depression.

I was dressed in a simple felt, black tunic and gray leggings, both torn, heavily patched, several sizes too large and soaked all the way though. Over them, I wore a black, travel- worn coat that ended at the tops of my tattered boots and had a hood that kept my face shadowed. I also had a leather shoulder bag, in which I kept everything I owned, which wasn't much. For I was just as poor as anyone else and--because the abbey had stopped handing out meager portions of food --equally famished. But whereas most would just starve to death, I had other ways of surviving. 

I immediately saw my target: a sleepy merchant not paying enough attention to his potato bread. The man scanned the crowd for potential customers. This as the sort of thing I thrived on.

As I walked by, I slid one of the loaves up my baggy sleeve in one liquid, flawless movement. I continued to walk on down the street, thinking myself victorious, but the clerk must have done a quick inventory check…

"Guards! A thief!" He yelled. Immediately, A few of the weary "royal" guards looked up from their rain drenched posts. They were stationed all around the village square, surrounding it and blocking all of the entrances. But I was all too familiar with the thievery trade, I knew how to deal with this situation: _Run!_

I dodged between two slow-looking guards and ran flat-out down the drive, darting in and out of the crowds, trying to lose them. No such luck, they were like a team of disciplined hunting dogs. Some of the beggars cheered as I flew past.

But from out of nowhere, another guard stepped right in my path and grabbed me roughly by the arm.

"And where do you think you're going?" he sneered. But I wasn't exactly helpless ether. I drew the knife from my belt and stabbed him in the thigh, severing an artery. He screamed and recoiled, releasing me from his grasp. I recovered my speed and was quickly on my way, the buildings thinning out into the fields of the serfs. But still they pursued! Not for long. I headed into the woods and hid behind a tree. I heard the guards halt at once.

"Whoa, we're not actually going to go in to the Black Forest, are we?" Asked one, sounding concerned.

"No, no…there would be no point in that, it's getting late. Besides, he won't be coming out alive anyway." Remarked another, obviously not giving a damn whether the job got done or not. "Let's go to the tavern and kick back a few."

"Aye."

"Sounds good."

"Whatever."

I listened to them slosh up back to the town until their trampling footsteps died away. I collapsed against the tree, breathing hard. _All of this over bread!_ If I had been caught, I would have been hung or had wild dogs sent up against me in public at a fair, for _entertainment_, not something to be looked forward to.

I looked around me. Unlike my fellow countrymen, I had no fear of the Black Forest; I actually found it almost enchanting. I liked the way that the silvery mist drifted around the gnarled, dark trees. The whole place seemed mysterious and forbidding. At least the rain was filtered through the leaves and blocked most of the rain. There were myths of demons and dragons living deep within the forest, but myths were all that they were. There were packs of wolfos, but they had moved on years before when livestock around the area became scarce. As far as I knew, there was nothing to even remotely fear in the Black Forest.

Taking the bread from my sleeve, I found that now it was slightly damp. I didn't care; I was hungry enough to eat the leather off my boots. I ripped off a hunk with my teeth and chewed it noisily. It tasted sweet and warm, not stale and hard which was what I was accustomed to. I would have eaten it all but stopped half way. I was never sure when my next meal was going to be so sometimes I hoarded food. Regretfully, I stowed away what remained in my bag.

Suddenly, there was a loud clank of metal behind me, I nearly wet myself. Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with a large--no, _huge_ iron monster. I took a few steps back in surprise and feared for my life. But that all changed when I realized what it was. It was not a monster at all, but a horse clad in heavy armor of polished steel, no rider. It was a black stallion; the armor suggested that he belonged to a knight or someone of similar status. The horse simply looked at me, as if to ask what the problem was. Its eyes were strange, a sort of cobalt blue color, and they seemed to see right into my soul. I stood there for a minute, wondering what to do. I would have probably been rewarded if I had returned him to his master.

I cautiously came back to the horse's saddle; there was a sword strapped to the side. I untied the shoulder strap and held the sword in its scabbard. I marveled at the lightness of the broad sword. Without even thinking about it, I drew the sword out, dropping the scabbard to the grass. It was a beautiful thing, it seemed to be unused, no rust or stains.

There was an odd round disk of what seemed to be onyx with a bluish flaw in it where the hilt met the blade. The swirls of blue seemed to form a symbol that I had never seen before; it appeared to be some sort of rune.

I admired it for a few seconds then took it by the handle and made a clumsy swipe through the air. There was no way I was going to give this thing back or even sell it, it gave me a feeling of power when I wheedled it. Somehow, I felt more confident when the steel rested in the palm of my hand. I really didn't have a use for a sword; I didn't know how to use it and had no desire to do so before. _I guess I will now…_

I replaced the fine piece of steel in its scabbard and then returned my attention back to the horse. I fiddled with a few straps, messed around with a few buckles and with a bit of effort, soon the crupper (hind piece) slipped off with another clank. Next was the flank plate that was under the saddle then the breastplate, the neckpiece and the headpiece. I realized soon that the horse was as beautiful as the sword. His flanks were glossy and the legs were slender and clean. The horse had a distinctive and refined head. This stallion was not the typical war-horse but a finely made animal built for speed and endurance rather then to be rode into battle. I was no expert, but I knew this breed was not from around the area. I stepped to the head and held out my hand. The five-year-old lowered his head and stretched his nose forward in response. The large, intelligent blue eyes seemed to signal acceptance as I touched his face. More at ease, I stroked the velvet-like skin of his nose.

"You're more of a baby then a monster, aren't you?" I said, chuckling to myself. The stallion nicked. I reached back down to my shoulder bag and fished out the potato bread. I held it out for him, which he ate greedily. I looked him over a bit more carefully; there were small cuts on his shoulders, belly, neck, hindquarters and legs. Whip marks, someone had been abusing him, some of the cuts were still fresh and looked as if they had dried recently. "And I thought I had it rough," I muttered.

I was faced with a tough decision. I certainly couldn't return him to his master, who would surely beat him again. But I couldn't keep him for myself. Sure, I knew how to ride bareback and take care of a horse (I had worked in a stable for a year before the owner decided to fire me. Bastard.), but keeping him meant money, something I didn't have. He dropped to the ground and rolled on his back, happy to be free of his heavy armor, saddle and bridal. I wondered how long he had been wandering around in the forest. I decided to leave him and hope he'd find his way to someone that knew how to properly handle a horse, and had the money to keep him. I strapped the scabbard to my belt and started to walk away, beginning my search for an ideal place to spend the night. The stallion got up and started to follow me, like an overgrown dog. I turned around.

"Go on! Go away. Find someone else, someone who can take care of you!" I said loudly, my voice projecting off the trees. The horse looked at me as if to say he would do no such thing. I threw up my hands. "All right, fine. You can stay with me for now but in the morning I'm finding you an owner."

I walked over to a tree and sat down against it. I wrapped my arms around myself and drew my knees up to my chest. _Damn it's cold!_ I shivered as the hair on my arms rose up. But the horse found a solution. He lay down beside me, offering me his flank. Reluctantly, I leaned against it. He was warm soft and had a nice aroma to him. I soon found myself curled up with his head resting on my back and drifting off to sleep as the sun's light faded completely.


	2. Zwei

It was that dream again. The one I had every night; it was always the same, never changing in all these years. I could see no faces. I could hear him speak but it was…as if it was another language, the words held no meaning. But sometimes I understood, and I wished that I couldn't understand them at all…

A sharp pain on the side of my neck, a knife carved into the soft skin.

__

"No! Stop it! You're hurting me!" I heard myself yell, but something held me back; I couldn't move my arms to fight it off. Terror and dread washed over me, though 

A dark voice chuckled mirthlessly and then whispered softly into my ear.

__

"Just a little while longer, then--"

A sharp bite to the rear awoke me. The nightmare faded away for the moment. I shot up and cursed at the horse but then stopped immediately. The sound of snapping twigs, the sound barely audible even to my high-strung senses. There were others in the forest; moving through the branches with utmost care. There were only four, illuminated by a single torch, barely visible though the silvery mist. I could tell these were not men at all, for they were all around six and seven feet tall.

__

Orcs, there are orcs in the forest…

The stallion had woken me to show me the monstrous things. For those of you who have never seen an orc, I will describe them to you. Orcs are truly horrible looking creatures. They vary from 6'10 to 8'5 in height; all are inhumanly strong and rippling with muscles. They have relatively small heads along with flat noses; two tusk-like teeth that protrude from the lower jaw like a bulldog, heavy brows and leathery, green skin. From what I could tell, orcs were merciless killers. They had begun to appear seemingly out of nowhere a few years before and had been plundering towns and burning farms ever since. 

My heart burned with sudden hatred. From what I could tell, orcs were merciless killers. They had begun to appear seemingly out of nowhere a few years before and had been plundering towns and burning farms ever since. It was because of them that I was forced to steal for my keep and remain entirely homeless. I wanted to just scream, dash over the fallen logs and rocks, sword in hand, and kill the whole lot of them. 

But bold doesn't mean stupid. Orcs used battle-axes, swords and maces on the battlefield with deadly prowress; no knight stood a chance against them one-on-one. And I was no knight. 

I wondered what they were doing in the area. They weren't usually found so far south…Wonder turned into critical thought and then to a dilemma as I debated with myself whether or not to follow them.

For some reason, my curiosity always got the best of me.

I got up as quietly as possible. I started to follow them, keeping my distance to about thirty feet behind them. The tallest one led the way and carried a torch, singing the leaves overhead, the others followed behind him. They were talking among themselves in their deep, rumbling voices.

"…I just don't understand…He _is_ only human. Why can't we just get rid of him? It wouldn't be too hard," said one.

"Yeah, we could…uh, toss him back into the water," Suggested a second uncertainly; a third nodded his head vigorously.

"Or run him through with our swords!" he said enthusiastically, the forth sighed in agitation.

"You are all fools if you really believe in that nonsense," He stated plainly, he sounded exhausted.

"Well if you're so damn smart, Fenter, then what do you think?" said the third, voice dripping with cynicism.

The forth whirled around to confront him, making the others stop dead in their tracks. His face was deeply scarred from battle, was the tallest I had ever seen and had wild black hair that was misty silver at the temples--he was obviously much older then the others. He glared coldly at the orc; he seemed to shrink under his murderous gaze.

"I think rookies should keep their mouths shut and not speak in such a vulgar manner to their elders! I taught you all better then that." He growled.

"But, sir…" spoke the second one quietly. "Jarvan and Weveren do have a point. So he has magic? Surly he can't be that powerful for any one of us to kill." 

This orc had the most peculiar eyes I had ever seen. Instead of the usual black or even the rare red, his were a steel gray and seemed almost holographic when the light from the torch hit them. It also made him seem…I don't know, wiser than his brethren, save the old one.

"Testen, of what age are you?"

"One hundred and twenty five, sir."

I was not surprised to hear this. I heard that orcs had a life span of over a thousand years.

"And what do you know of magic?"

The orc looked down and drew his boot in the dirt. I realized that this must be an older orc training others that were considered teenagers by the rest of their people, if I was their age equivalent I would only be slightly younger. Maybe. I wasn't too sure how old I was. 16? 17? 18? It was hard to tell where it's hard to track down dates past two years ago or so.

"Just as I thought," He grumbled, turning around and walking through the brush. His apprentices followed.

"But there _must_ be _something _we can do to stop him!" he blurted out one they had started moving again. His voice was filled with compassion and concern, something I would have never thought an orc capable of. "We can't just let him take over this land. I love this place, so full of light--have you ever seen so many different plants and animals? I don't want it to be reduced to dust like our world."

The old orc sighed heavily. "Yes, I love this land as dearly as you do. But, there is nothing we can do at the moment; he is far too powerful to be annihilated without the use of magic. All we can do now is hope that his mad quest for power brings him to his own demise. We shall see if he actually gets through the passage, there is a chance he won't, but if he does, I shall see when it is best to make our escape to Hyrule."

__

Hyrule? I had heard very little about Hyrule. All I knew was that it was a small yet prosperous country far to the east. Something so far away might as well never have existed. I was greatly puzzled over this conversation. Who was this person they were talking about? Why did they want to kill this one in particular? _Did_ he have magic? But most of all, I wondered where they were going…

"But…what of the words from the Oracle?" asked Testen in a rather hushed tone, I had to strain to hear him.

"You spoke to the Oracle?"

"Yes-"

"No, " interrupted the forth orc who I could only assume was Weveren, "the Oracle _sent_ for him. He wouldn't talk to anyone else. Tell 'em Testen."

"He says that a child with great power will be born. He can't see the outcome though, but he knows that the fate of the world rests upon its shoulders." This seemed to make him uneasy; he traveled in silence the rest of the way.

"Heavy stuff, man." Muttered Jarvan, shaking his head. "The question is if he'll turn to good or evil."

I could hear other orcs. Some were speaking in English and some were speaking in _Onatin_, the orc language but I couldn't make out what they were saying. The voices came from ahead of us. I could see the shafts of torchlight through the trees and could hear the grunts of a heavy breed of war-horses that the orcs used to ride into battle. They seemed to be at Black Pond…

Fenter, Jarvan, Testen Weveren headed towards the light, as I held back, unsure of what to do. I was terrified by then. I should have been smart and turned back to report that I had seen orcs, four was enough of a concern for them to send in troops. But my curiosity was getting the best of me, as always. Besides, no one would listen if I had told them, no one would believe a beggar.

__

Aww, hell, why not take a look? I asked myself, hand resting on the hilt of 'my' new sword.

I bravely started forward towards the light. But then I realized the horse had been traveling silently behind me the whole time. I turned around, he was giving me a what-do-you-think-you're-doing look with his large, expressive eyes.

"It's all right, I just want to see what's going on. You stay here, we'd be seen if you followed me." I whispered and held his nose. Then it struck me that I was talking to a horse. If anyone had heard that, they would have thought I was loosing my mind. Talking to animals…honestly…

But to my surprise, when I started forward, he stayed still. I marveled at this for a second, no horse I had ever heard of responded to human words. Then I remembered what I had followed the orcs for and continued on towards the light. I crouched down low so as not to be seen as I pressed on.

I gasped at what I saw. Stretched out below me was Black Pond, the land sloped down to it to create a sort of huge bowl-shaped theater where the water collected in a deep basin. From the rocky outcropping that I stood on, I could see more than five thousand orcs, the muster of the entire clan. Most were tightly clustered together, shoulder to shoulder around the water. A few, like the four orcs that I had followed, stood farther away. Unlike the orcs at the pond, who seemed happy and excited the other orcs seemed sullen and exchanged dark looks among themselves. I noticed that Testen was sharpening a massive five-foot-long sword with a rock, testing it on the hair of his arm. Fenter paced restlessly, glancing over at the pond on occasion.

__

Well, now what? I thought to myself. I was scared out of my mind. If an orc discovered me, I would die by the Red Eagle--which meant that a cut was made right below your rib cage and your internal organs were pulled out while you were still alive, one by one--heh, heh, not a pleasant thing to watch or experience. I think being hanged at the fair would have been a far more pleasant alternative.

I noticed that my breath emerged from my nose as freezing vapor. It made me terribly uneasy. _Was it this cold before? No, something is very,_ very_ wrong…_

All of a sudden, the crowd hushed, all eyes turned to the pond in one single fluid movement.

"Ganondorf! He comes!" announced one to the mass of orcs.

I watched with grave interest. I should have turned around I guess but I was nailed to the ground, transfixed as the water began to boil at the center. There were few at first, then it seemed that the pond frothed black bubbles. The source of them seemed to move under the water, moving towards the bank in my direction. The orcs at the water's edge took a few steps back as the trail of bubbles drifted ever closer.

A head emerged from the water followed by shoulders and the rest as a man trudged up the bank to the orcs. He was a huge man in strange black and brown armor. His skin was dark and looked tough as leather on his face. I couldn't tell what ethnicity he was. He looked Arabic but his stiff red hair that was beginning to recede from his sloped forehead proved otherwise. It was also hard to guess his age. He could have been anywhere from late thirties to mid fifties for all I knew. He was also a massively built man, looking as if he could very easily bench press a carthorse, almost like an orc but lacking their height, I knew he couldn't be quite as strong.

In one swift movement, every orc went down on one knee and bowed their heads. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and inhaled deeply, wide nostrils flaring. He then looked back to the orcs at his feet and spoke in a rough voice with a slight metallic note in it.

"Ahh…It is good to be back after these last few years. One does miss this place after being away in the realm for so long. But I am rather disappointed in you all," His voice cut though the air like a knife and demanded respect from the monsters around him. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. His eyes rested upon one orc in particular who was directly in front of him. "Duran? Will you please stand up?"

The orc stood up. I recognized him as the warlord of the clan, a general of sorts and was a foot taller than the man that was probably around 6'7". But instead of appearing savage and brave as he did leading the hoards into battle, Duran was shaking violently. _He's scared? Of what? He looks strong but it's nothing an orc can't handle. Who is this guy?_

"Y-Yes, my king?" he stammered, barely contained terror evident. 

"Duran, why have you not managed to obtain a member of the royal family?"

"Well, sir, I think it's because--"

"I did not ask for your opinion, orc. What of the siege equipment that was sent to you? Why have you not managed to storm the castle with it?"

"They found out about the attack somehow. The royal family fled." The man they called Ganondorf scowled and he quickly added: "I'm sorry I failed you."

"You pitiful worm. You know the policy that I have for failures…"

The eyes of every orc widened in horror, though the expression was a thousand fold on the face of the accused warlord.

"_NO! Please, have mercy!"_ He screamed, falling to his knees. The man smiled and held out his hand, palm facing the whimpering orc. The orc's soldiers scuttled away from him, knowing what would happen next. 

A horrific thing happened. The fingertips of the man's hand glowed purple, such a phenomena I had never seen before. A ball of purple flame flew from his hand and hit the orc in the face. Before my very eyes, the flesh began to slide off the bone like an overcooked chicken. Blood seeped from all visible openings in his body as his unearthly howls filled our ears. The screams were cut short when the rib cage fell out of the front of his chest. What was left of Duran slumped into his own puddle of blood and internal organs.

"Oh dear God!" I yelled without even thinking. All of a sudden, more than five thousand sets of eyes fell upon me including the yellow eyes of Duran's executioner. The man seemed fairly amused. His eyes seemed to burn with a light of their own as they met mine, but I couldn't be sure because of my hood. _Oh shit, I am so screwed._ I backed up a few steps at his cold, penetrating gaze. _RUN!_

I bolted into the forest, running as fast as my stiff, cold legs could carry me. I ran blindly through the forest, branches slapping at my face and thorns shredding my clothes even further. You must understand that magic was very rare in our part of the world. 

The only ones that possessed the power in our country were the royal family, or more specifically, the males. Females carried the powers within them from what I had been told but lacked the power to use them, though their children inherited them just fine. Needless to say I had never even seen a member of the royal family, much less magic. Sure, I had seen magicians before when they performed in the market for spare change but that was all just diversion and slight of hand, they didn't make people melt like candle wax. This was _real. _This man they called Ganondorf was power. I was convinced that the he was pure evil, no doubt in my mind--if he was a man at all.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of light hoof beats at my side. I reached out a hand and touched the flank of the black stallion that trotted alongside me. I instinctively grabbed a hunk of his mane and swung up onto the horse's back. Before I was even properly seated, he hurtled forward. I flattened myself out, burying my face in the mane as we broke through the tree line and to the vast grasslands that were bathed in the glow of the full moon. He put on a tremendous burst of speed to a flat-out gallop along a dirt road. We left the forest far behind and the stallion slowed to a canter. But we were far from being out of danger as I soon learned.

CRACK!

The air around me was filled with electricity and I felt something hard hit me in the back. It was as if the blood in my veins was replaced with white-hot flames. I felt my whole body become rigid. My grip was released and I fell to the ground. I heard a sickening crunch as my leg broke under me. The horse realized that I had fallen and came back to where I lay. My eyes wouldn't focus right but I could feel the puffs of air as he checked me over by smell to see if I was all right--no, I was in great pain already, and I just knew there was more to come. I gritted my teeth from a mix of frustration, rage and pain. From farther away, I could hear the clank of armor as someone walked towards me. As the footsteps came closer, the horse came to the front of me, sheltering me from what was coming. I heard a voice.

"Away from him, horse," The voice commanded, cool as ice. The horse snorted in defiance. "Very well."

There was a flash of light. The horse screamed and jerked out of the way. The steps halted inches away from me. My eyes came to focus on the evil man peering at me down the length of his obscenely long nose. _How the hell did he get here so fast?_

"A scout of Guinness, how amusing. Tell me, in what way would you prefer to perish this fine evening?" he chuckled like it was just a joke. 

I considered myself a true coward but seeing as to I couldn't run from this--but I wouldn't if given the chance. Better to die on my feet then at his. I wiggled the toes of my right leg; I had power to move again. With my good leg, I kicked out at the sand on the ground, spraying it in the man's eyes. With a growl he tried to rub out the sand, I staggered to my feet and drew out my newly acquired sword. When his eyes were free of the sand, he saw me twenty feet away from him, two-handed grip on the sword, shoulders hunched, all of my weight resting on one foot while only the toe of my other boot was on the ground. He glared at me darkly yet there was the hint of a bemused smile in those cold eyes. "Have you no honor?"

"You dealt the first blow, I'm only as ruthless as my enemy." I hissed. "Care to swap body fluids you murdering son of a bitch?"

He grinned broadly, was that the answer he had expected?

"A challenge! I gladly accept. I suppose I need some practice, I was aiming for your head," He said, lazily outstretching his arm, the fingers glowing slightly once more but this time green. "By the time I am through, you will be begging to die."

It was a pitifully short-lived battle. A neon green beam lanced from his hand towards me. I tried to jump out of the way but for that I would need two good legs for that. Instead I just managed to stumble to the side; I inhaled sharply as I felt the bones in my leg grind against each other. He caught me off guard and shot at me again, hitting me directly in the chest. Another snap. The force sent me flying into the air and landing some eight feet away on my back, the sword fell from my hand a little ways off. The pain was incredible; wave over wave of it washed over me. 

The hood had fallen from my face. He gasped his eyes wide and surprised. When he spoke, it sounded oddly confused.

"A--A woman?"


	3. Drei

"A woman…" he repeated to himself, softer this time.

I tried to get up again but just slumped back down to the ground, face contorted in pain. I touched my chest lightly and found it sticky with a thick liquid. Blood had seeped through the tunic, the white shirt and the corset I used to conceal my identity as female. Men in my time were, well, less then gentleman. You didn't get hassled as much if they thought you were one of them. I tried to get up again but Ganondorf rushed forward, knelt down at my side and pushed me back down by my shoulder as gently as he could.

"No, no, no, darling. It would be best if you didn't get up. You're hurt." He said softly, using his most kindest and sincere voice. It was a disturbing change from what I had witnessed only seconds ago.

"I wonder whose--" I tried to yell but my voice was stifled by a cough. More blood, I spit it off to the side but more took its place. The snap that I had heard was a rib; it had punctured a lung. _I'm dying!_ My mind screamed for oxygen, as did my aching muscles. The pain seemed very far away at that point. My vision began to cloud up from lack of blood. I felt the man's large hands take off my coat then sweep the long dirty hair from my forehead and then rest it there.

"You'll be fine, I can help you." His voice was extremely calm considering the situation

There was no doubt in my mind that if he wished, he could crush my skull as easily as he would an eggshell with that hand of his. But instead of causing any further damage, I felt a warm, comforting sensation starting from my head and then spreading all the way down to my toes. I closed my eyes as I felt strange things happening in my body like my bones knitting themselves back together and my lung repairing the tissue. I spat once more and then there was nothing. I looked over to the man; his copper eyes seemed to shine with a light of their own as they gazed into my own.

"Are you all right?"

I was speechless for a few moments, but then I just exploded.

"Get the hell away from me!"

Startled, he stepped back a little while I scrambled to my feet. I glared at him as he stared at me curiously, quickly regaining his composure.

"You don't express proper gratitude, considering the fact that I just saved your life."

"You mean nearly killed me, you--you--" I struggled to come up with a creative retort, but failed. _"--Asshole!"_

He looked almost thoughtful, "I suppose that is true. My apology, if that helps at all." Like I said, truly disturbing. He continued, seeing as that I wasn't going to be won over with a simple apology. "Now, why would the country of Guinness risk one of its finest daughters, and especially one so attractive, to do men's work?" 

I glared at him darkly, but with a little confusion. What was he talking about? I was not sure what I looked like, I'd never seen a looking glass and only had a vague idea of what I looked like through murky puddles in the ditches, but I could very well assume that it wasn't very pretty at all. And the way he said "finest daughters…" I must have looked dreadfully lost, as he continued once more. "Tell me, what is your name?"

What was my name? I didn't know, and was really starting to question his sanity. I was sure my parents had given me one, but assumed it had been lost long ago when I had been abandoned. I had been called 'Hey you', 'thief' and…well, names that were not so polite. _Spill your guts or he might do it for you, _I told myself. He did after all have the powers.

"Uh, Julia," I picked, purely at random. He raised his thick eyebrows in response.

"And a last name?"

"Salem. Julia Salem. Why?" I said quickly. Ganondorf narrowed his eyes in suspicion but then smirked.

"I know who you are, but do you know?" he answered. "When I attacked you, why didn't you just fire back?"

I took a few steps back towards the horse; there was something odd about how he said those words_. There's no way he could know me, I've never met this guy in my life._

"So you don't know…Excellent. That should make things far easier for me." Suddenly, he lunged forward trying to take hold of my arms. But I wasn't crippled anymore. I jumped out of the way and snatched my sword from the ground where it had fallen. He paused, seemed amused as I stood before him, imitating the battle stance that I had seen knights use. "Do you really think you can face me and live to tell the tail? Put it down, 'Julia,' or I will introduce you to a world of pain."

"Try me," I hissed and brandished the sword and narrowed my eyes into slits. He smiled but not in the kind way he did before. It was cruel and sadistic; the sight of it made my hair prickle against my sleeves.

Some would later call challenging the mighty wizard a heroic and courageous deed. Others, myself included, would think it reckless and stupid. But all would agree it to be smarter than cooperating with him. I swear to the Gods it was the damn sword. It made me feel recklessly brave. Ganondorf, taking on a leisurely stance, drew a scimitar out of his boot with a metallic _SHING _and pointed it at me.

"Are you going to make the first move or shall I?" He snickered, not taking the situation very seriously. He knew I was unskilled. I didn't move a muscle. "All right then."

With a loud war cry that echoed across the grassland, he leapt at me with his Arabic style sword arched high above his head. Instincts kicked in. I went forward at the same time, blocking the heavy blow that would have killed me.Steel clashed against steel, sending a shower of sparks to the ground. The power behind his sword nearly knocked me off my feet but I managed to hold my ground. With a grunt, he kicked out at me but I avoided it and flipped backwards. The moves came so naturally one would think I had been trained for years._ Wow, I'm better then I thought! _He came at me again and once more he was blocked. I felt sweat dripping down my back but my face was cold. He slashed out at me, I missed it narrowly by jumping back, I felt the tip of his sword graze my tunic and make a small tear it the mid-section. I knew he wasn't putting any effort into those heavy blows; he was just playing with me as a cat would a mouse.

There was a horrifying scream; it pierced though the air like a siren. The kind of sound that made your hair stand on end and blood run cold. There was a clatter of hooves as a black shadow charged past me straight for Ganondorf. He veered suddenly and missed the warrior by less then inches. While he was distracted I lashed out at him and came very close to my target, I nicked his ear and a bead of dark blood trickled down the side of his face, his eyes widened as he blocked another attack. We moved in a slow circle and kept our distance from each other, his steps heavy, mine nervous and quick, both playing our roles in the deadly dance of steel. The black horse passed restlessly around us, tossing his head and flaring his nostrils, not taking the risk of attempting the same thing again.

But then the rules changed. The man smiled even broader, his brilliant white teeth appearing in his dark face. My vision seemed to ripple like a wave of heat had passed over my eyes. I glanced around me in horror. He was gone!

__

Where the hell did he--there was a whistle of steel and then a searing pain shot through my shoulder, almost making me drop the sword. I gasped sharply; it was a sword wound. Not very deep but painful none the less. I slashed at the air around me recklessly, desperate to strike my invisible foe. His hoarse chuckle filled the air around me, seeming to come from all directions.

"What's wrong, _Julia_? Afraid of what you can't see?" he taunted. I gritted my teeth together.

"Afraid to face me?" I growled, heart pounding in my ears. The chuckle turned into mirthless laughter.

Suddenly, I was slammed into the ground on my back. He was on top of me, pinning me down. I could scarcely draw breath with the weight. He leaned so close; I could feel his hot, disgusting breath on my face.

"I win," He said, still grinning. "Now I can claim my prize."

The look in his eyes was that of pure unabashed lust. Two fingers hooked them self in the strap of my leggings and began to pull down slowly. _NO. Not right, too much like the dreams!_

"Damn you and the whore that brought you screaming into this world!" I yelled, frantically twisting, trying to rid myself of him but to no avail.

"Come back to the forest with me," He said softly.

"Never!" I screamed. My fingers hooking into claws.

"That wasn't a question, it was an order--"

A large figure hurtled out of the darkness, slamming into Ganondorf from the side and knocking him off of me. I scrambled to my feet. And there was the man, struggling against the massive, battle-hardened orc. His eyes had turned from a yellow to a fiery red as he glared at Fenter who had neatly pinned him to the ground on his belly, hands behind his back. But Ganondorf was too strong, even for an orc; Fenter had difficulty holding him down. Ganondorf's hands, balled into fists, glowed with an eerie purple light.

"Run, human! Go and never look back! Find safety in Hyrule!" Fenter yelled to me.

"But--"

"Run, damn you!" he sneered, "I cannot hold him down much longer!" I picked up my sword and the black horse was at my side in an instant. I swung up onto his back and dug my heels into his side. He took off, swift as the wind. As we went by, I could feel Ganondorf's eyes following me.

Never had I felt a horse run so fast in my life, his tremendous speed made it hard to breath and the air whipping against my face stung my eyes, making them tear up. Blood was singing in my ears. I leaned forward as much as possible, became lost in the inky black mane. Thunder rolled from his hooves and cut away at the turf as we topped a grassy knoll just as a bright, purple flash in the sky signaled Fenter's death. I bowed my head and urged on the horse, fearing Ganondorf would hunt us down again.

He never came.

Sometime later after we had covered a lot of ground, we stopped at a small stream. By the light of a Poe lantern, I cleaned the wound on my shoulder. It hurt like hell but wasn't too bad. It probably wouldn't even get infected.

__

But what now? Where do I go from here?

My mind drifted back to the orc. He had given his life to save me, from what I could only guess. Why was beyond me…

Hyrule…What was in Hyrule? Why did he say to go there? But…perhaps it was safe; otherwise he just would have said to get out of the county. Did Hyrule have some sort of defense against the dark sorcerer? I sighed deeply and continued to swab the cut. After wrapping my arm in some cloth, I sat there for a few moments just thinking. The horse never left me, as I knew he wouldn't. He just stared at me with those intelligent blue eyes.

"Well, I guess I'm going to Hyrule..." I said to the horse. Yes, by god I was talking to animals again! But this was no ordinary animal; something set him beyond the reach of all others. When I looked in those eyes, I saw wisdom that no human could ever achieve. "You up for it?" The stallion grunted put his face close to mine. "I'll take that as a yes."

I got up and then we rode off to meet my fate.


	4. Vier

The hinges groaned as my hands pushed on the rough wooden door, its surface scarred by time. The air inside was filled with the aroma of inscents and burning candles. A red runner divided the thirty long rows of pews down the center. My footsteps were muffled by the thick material as I stepped forward towards a marble alter toped with black granite. Behind the alter was an intricately carved slab of stone fifteen feet high and crowed with the holy symbol, the Triforce itself.

Yes, the Temple of Time. My presence there brought back memories of the past. _No, _I reminded myself. _Memories of a past that never occurred._ I sighed and traced a finger along the edge of a hollow in the altar; the hole that had one kept the Goron ruby.

"Link?" a kind voice behind me inquired. I spun around to face a portly old man with whitened hair. His crinkled smile was kind and disarming. He wore a simple brown robe with the sacred triangles embroidered on the chest with gold, the typical priest garb.

There were a few oddities after my quest had ended in the land of Hyrule--and undoubtedly other places as well. Only a very select few knew about the events that had occurred after I had pulled the Master Sword from the Pedestal of Time; the sages, a few others, and myself that just seemed to know. One of these oddities was that the man that stood before me was not only Sage of Light, but also pastor of the temple.

"Oh, Father Rauru, it's only you…" I said, voice strained and tired.

"Who did you expect," He chuckled slightly "Ganondorf?"

I said nothing, just stared back at him gravely. My current condition added to the effect. I must have looked dreadful; purple circles under my eyes, two days worth of stubble on my face, not to mention my clothes stained with blood from the day before. Rauru's smile quickly faded into a thin line.

"Is there something I should know?"

"Well, I-I really can't say, it's hard to explain…" I stammered. Every word seemed to be magnified ten fold as it echoed across the stone walls of the temple.

"Is it your dreams?" I was startled for a minute, surprised by his answer.

"Yes. How did you--" He cut me off with an impatient gesture towards a nearby pew. I followed him to a seat that would be occupied by a worshiper in a few hours for early Sunday services. We sat down facing the altar and the Door of Time. After a few moments, he spoke again.

"Princess Zelda has come to me often reporting what she thinks may be prophetic visions."

I looked away for a moment. I had loved Zelda deeply and still did at the time. Almost two years to the day, I had asked for her hand in marriage. But she refused claiming that her father would never approve of his daughter marrying a peasant. She also stated that marriage would shatter the friendship we shared. Apparently, so did rejection. I was utterly heartbroken. We didn't see each other as often as we once had. Whenever I saw her, it was usually on business or across a crowd. Even after a few years the mention of her name was like a stab in the chest.

"You've been speaking with her?"

"Only as often as her father permits," he answered with just a hint of disgust. It was common knowledge to everyone that the priest disliked the king of Hyrule. I'm sure the king would have removed Rauru from his position, if it were not for his popularity with the people. He shook his head and continued. "In these visions--though she could not remember in detail--Ganondorf escapes with an army of powerful demons. Is this similar to your dreams?"

"No…" I recalled what I had born witness to only an hour before as I gazed at the door. "It was like Hyrule Field, only it wasn't, I was somewhere different entirely. I felt weird, like it wasn't me--and I guess it was someone different. I was dressed in rags. I was ridding a black horse and had a sword at my hip. It felt like I was hit in the back with lightning--then I woke up."

I looked back to the old Sage. He interlocked his gnarled fingers and sighed deeply. "And I suppose you think that this 'lightning' was caused by Ganondorf."

"Yes."

"And you came to check if the seal was broken."

"Yes."

"Very well."

With another heavy sigh, Rauru got to his feet and I followed him quietly up to the altar. His fingers pried where the granite and marble met. After struggling for a few moments, I stepped in.

"Here, let me help you with that." I said. With ease, I lifted the black stone top a few inches, a cloud of dust billowed out of the crevice; making me cough violently but I didn't loose my hold. After the dust had settled, Rauru reached in and pulled out a leather bag. I set the top back in place just as Rauru pulled open the drawstrings. He lifted out something and handed it to me. The Ocarina of Time. The small egg-shaped instrument was as perfect as I remembered. I ran a callused finger along the smooth surface that seemed to resemble a sky with wisps of clouds strung across it. The three golden triangles on the mouthpiece reflected back miniature versions of myself.

"Link?" My head jerked up. Rauru had set up the three spiritual stones in their corresponding hollows. "Do you still remember the song?"

"How could I forget?" I answered.

Standing on the red carpet, I faced the altar and put the ocarina to my lips. I blew into it softly and without even having to think, I began to play. The slow mournful melody of the Song of Time filled our ears. With a slight hum, the Spiritual Stones began to spin rapidly and reflected the golden light of the Triforce symbol above the carved slab. A rift down the center of the Door of Time appeared and widened even farther with every note. The pews shuddered and creaked as the door opened completely and went back into the walls. The way was cleared.

"Shall we proceed?" questioned Rauru, staring ahead into the gloom. I nodded and let down the ocarina to my side as we stepped behind the altar and through the door. Small clouds of dust rose up at our feet as we entered the hidden chamber. The huge room was displayed before us with a ceiling so high you couldn't see its end. The only source of light came from a window somewhere near the top. Its single shaft of golden light fell upon a sword unlike any other. Half embedded in a pedestal of solid stone, the Master Sword gleamed as brightly as the moon.

I could still remember so clearly how I had entered the same room so long ago, a mere child filled with awe and scared out of my wits because of Ganondorf. Once again, I had to remind myself that it never happened. My guess was that its hilt of blue metal had not been touched in hundreds of years.

"Well, it's still in place," I said softly. "The seal's still strong--right?"

"Go and see," murmured Rauru as I stepped up to the pedestal. There were no cracks in the stone or gaps revealing a ghastly under world, as I had feared. "Touch the sword, does it feel hot?"

I placed my hand on the hilt. It felt cool as ice. I felt a tingling sensation run through my arm that just seemed to beg me to yank the sword from the marble. "No." I answered and quickly removed my hand. Instinctively, I whipped my hand on the thigh of my leg like I had touched something nasty.

"Good. Then all is well, the seal shall hold for hundreds of years--but by then that vile creature will have died."

"But, could there be another exit from the realm?"

"Very unlikely, the very thought is almost laughable. This is the only way in and out of the Sacred Realm." He clapped me on the shoulder reassuringly. "Now, be troubled no more. I'll inform you if I feel that there is such a danger. Keep the ocarina. Would you like me to leave the door open for you so you can check for yourself from time to time?"

"Sure."

***

Soon after talking to Rauru and saying a few prayers, I exited the temple where my horse was waiting outside. I tucked away the ocarina in my pocket as I came up to her. The horse was a mare with a blood-bay coat and white mane and tail--blacker towards the roots. I came to the war-horse's head and untied her from the hitching post. I could hear the sound of pots and smell breakfast wafting from the nearby townhouses. The market would soon be bustling with activity; it was best if I left before hand.

I smiled as I lead Epona past the dwellings and wished that I shared in their blissfully simple lives. They were ignorant to the hell that I had gone though to restore order to their land. Even Rauru's assurance could not part the dark clouds of doubt and uncertainty that hung over me.


	5. Fünf

Oh goodie goodie, time to answer reviews…

To Rai Doriane (can I call ya Dori?): If this is the best you can find, you haven't looked hard enough =) But I 'preciate it all the same.

To heatherthegreatone: Heheheh, I was wondering when someone'd notice that. Hell, I dunno, why not? Languages interest me, nothing more. Though in all likelihood orcs will speak German (very broken, very grammatically incorrect German) in future chapters, merely because people can't read it at a glace, but can at least get an idea if they type it into an online translator.

To Wraith: Thank you too, you have no idea how hard it is to think in first person.

Now, someone review before I get desperate and add in a raunchy, graphic, hard core, "help-me-I'm-running-out-of-ways-to-squick-myself" porn scene between Link and Shiek so I can label this yaoi and get it up to NC-17, therefore attracting more attention. 

__

Oh…That's a rather nice fit, I thought to myself as I laced up my new pair of boots. I had never had a single article of clothing that fit me properly before. Even in the dim light, I could see myself fairly well. A soft black tunic, new black leggings and the boots that I mentioned. I'd thrown away that godforsaken uncomfortable corset as well. The sword was at my hip once more and strapped to my side.

I began to chuckle slightly; the sound didn't travel too far in the cramped space. It was just the novelty of it all that made me smile. _Sure, there's a dangerous madman with tremendous magical power running around with an army of super-human monsters at this disposal…But hey, I got new stuff so it's all good. _

I pulled on a hooded cloak; it was a nice upgrade from what I had left behind three nights earlier. I didn't bother to pull on the hood; there was no one to see me. Carefully, I pushed open the swinging door, making sure the hinges wouldn't creak. My boot heels made the softest of clicks as I stepped through the storeroom. It was dark, around 4:30 AM I expect. I had entered the front room, the shop part of the building. Items of clothing, supplies, and preservatives lined the shelves and racks. The only light in the room came from the bright moon outside, its rays filtered by the lace curtains in the two windows towards the front of the shop. 

As I stepped thought the aisles, I plucked things off the shelves, things like smoked meat, water canteens, a compass, and a warm blanket. I would need all for the long trip ahead. But, much to my dismay, there was no map to Hyrule. Hyrule was far away, yet how far I wasn't sure. All I knew was that the Great Trade Route, that was said to criss-cross every county in the world, would take me right to it--Or, at least, I was certain of it.

My head poked around the end of the aisle.

"How are we feeling, Morgan?

At the front of the store tied to a wooden load-bearing post by the counter with a length of strong cord was a paunchy disheveled man. He was tied upright, still in his nightshirt with the coils around his legs, fat belly and chest. A rolled up handkerchief in his mouth stifled his yells and curses. Sanders Morgan glared at me murderously with his beady rat-like eyes narrowed into slits.

I came out into full view. I spun around on my heels in a full circle, the cloak fanning out from off my body as I did so. "Like my new outfit?" 

Sanders' glare turned, if possible, more outraged then before and he strained against his bindings trying to yell through the cloth. Amused, I drew the knife from my boot and stepped forward towards him. The rage dissipated. His face went white and eyes widened with fear as I held the 10-inch long blade to his throat. I'm a sadist, I'll admit, but I had no intention of killing him. Scaring the shit out of him and looting his store for all that it was worth was enough. 

"I'll let you speak if you don't yell," I said lazily "Make such a mistake and I _will_ draw blood."

He nodded, but very slightly so that the knife wouldn't puncture the soft flesh. I yanked the cloth out of his mouth. 

"You're t-that _Shadow Walker_ thief that the hobos talk 'bout, ain't 'ya?" He spat. His accent was not that of around the area, but I had never bothered to find out where he was from. "The one that robbed the store down the street a month ago, ain't 'ya?"

I blinked. "'Shadow Walker?' What?"

"Johnson said a guy in a hood broke in and robbed him blind. Only you's a girl. Says that they moved like the shadows, real quick like and quiet. And that they done him up lot like you doin' me." He said shortly.

"Yeah, that was me. I didn't know I had a title…" I trailed off, actually sort of pleased that I had a reputation. Shadow Walker, so mysterious, it sounded almost like a sprit or an omen of some sort "Ah, well, I really must be moving on. Now, if you'll so kindly tell me where you keep your money? You don't seem to have a safe anywhere…"

"I ain't tellen you nothing!" He said boldly, loosing his fear of me quickly. That is until I lowered the knife from his neck to below his fat belly.

"Don't be stupid, 'lest you'd like to be castrated this fine evening."

"You're-You're not that sick! N-Nobody is." He stuttered as the color drained from his blotchy pink face.

A feral and dangerous grin lighted my features. "I wouldn't test that theory." 

He looked down, defeated. "You're standn' on it..."

I stepped back and looked down. There was indeed a small board that looked somewhat newer and cleaner than the rest. I bent down and pried it upward with my knife. Removing the wood revealed a small compartment. Inside was a leather purse bulging with the contents inside. I scooped it up and opened it. Inside was a small fortune in gold Crowns (the currency of Guinness).

"Whew…" I bounced it on my hand to get a good feel for its weight. "Someone hasn't been paying their taxes--You could get in a lot of trouble for that, you're lucky I found it before the guards."

"I-I pay my taxes!" he said breathlessly. "I ain't like you! I don't--"

He was cut short in mid sentence as I shoved the cloth back in his mouth.

"Good day to you, sir," I muttered, pulling the drawstrings on the purse and tucking it into my pocket. I turned on my heels and walked silently out the door; his muffled yells of rage followed me as I stepped out into the cool night air.

I found myself in a narrow ally, town houses mostly with a few shops here and there. There was a sudden puff of air at my side. I looked to my left. The black horse that had followed me all the way to Terra Non--one of the last towns on the border to the wilderness. He was lightly bridled, no bit, saddled and with a few packs already on his flanks. Morgan's shop was not the only place I had hit that night though he was the only one that had woken up during my break in. 

"Hey, uh, Horse…" I shook my head slightly. The stallion needed a name if I was going to keep him. I looked to the heavens. The constellation Cyrus was particularly bright that night. Though I could never see anything to it but a familiar group of stars, legend told of Cyrus, a young man who despite his wisdom threw himself in the path of a monstrous beast to save a young maiden. It seemed all too familiar.

"Cyrus?" I questioned and he grunted, lowering his head and offering his nose for petting. I smiled and did so. The name had been approved.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps somewhere near by. I almost panicked, thinking that it was a guard on patrol. 

"_Quick! Over here!_" I whispered hurriedly to Cyrus. Not wanting to take any chances I lead Cyrus into another small side ally and quickly ducked after him. The footsteps drew nearer. From the sound of it, I could tell that the person was barefoot and small. Curious, I poked my head around the corner.

Slowly plodding along, a young girl with a small bundle of firewood walked down the street, her callused feet slapped dully against the paving stones. Her tanned face was listless and exhausted as she traveled towards my hiding spot. From her dark brown hair and eyes, and the torn clothes that she wore, I could tell she was a gypsy child. I felt a pang of sorrow. 

I was lucky never to be arrested, undoubtedly. But how could I be punished? Society had molded me into what I was, and then society punished me. The same was for this child, forced to scavenge the street to ensure her survival and that of her family. 

"Hey, kid." I whispered. She spun around, terror in her eyes and almost dropping her bundle. She had been completely oblivious to my presence. I sighed as she looked wildly around, searching for the source of my voice. "No, no, over here."

Her eyes met mine and she stopped dead in her tracks "You one from Daniel's clan?" She nodded slowly but took a step back. "It's Alright," I added softly "I'm only here to help."

I removed the bag of gold from my pocket and threw it to the girl's feet. It hit the ground with a hard metallic thud. The girl reluctantly put down her parcel and picked up the purse. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the money, it was probably the most she would ever see in her life or her children's--if she ever did survive the next three to five months after our meeting.

"But…Why?" she asked in the small high voice. Such an innocent child...

"Just a gift to your father, I know he's going through some hard times, just like the rest of us." She stared down at the gold, and then looked back up to me. Her eyes were so pure and untainted. "You'll give it to him for me, won't you?"

"Yes," She said, a smile grew on her thin face and it made her look so much younger, the way a child should. "Who should I say it's from?"

A smile played upon my lips as I gave her my reply.

"Shadow Walker."

The next two chapters'll be rather short, followed by a really long-ass one 'soon as I can get everything straightened out…It's amazing how much free time one has when suspended from school. Tch, oh well…


	6. Sechs

Ok, sorry folks, real shitty chapter here, but I couldn't very well just head into the next chapter without this happening…

It was cold and utterly bleak that night in the desert wastelands. Cyrus and I were huddled between two rock outcroppings, sheltering us as we waited out the rough storm of silver sand. 

The last two months had been…literally hell on horseback. First there were the Devil's Spires; the name says it all. It was just miles and miles of treacherous, god-forsaken, barren mountainside where nothing but the hardiest of plants and nasty critters could dwell. This was all well and good for Cyrus, who could manage with the scarce vegetation but I found myself dipping into my food supply more then I had planed. And then, getting desperate, I found what had saved me. 

One afternoon, we came upon a Tektite. The nasty little thing was all barbed legs, a small body and gnashing mandibles. It would have been easy enough to avoid but a sick prospect crossed my mind in my hunger-driven state. _It looks like a snow crab…Those are good eatn'. _And upon killing it with a single thrust of my sword, so I did. Later I found that you could bake them in their shells to preserve the meat but until then I ate them raw. They tasted a lot like chicken, though perhaps a little sweeter. From then on whenever I was near the brink of starvation, there was always a tektite to be found. 

But food wasn't always the issue; mostly it was because of the roughness of the road. You would think a road to be easy sailing but no, because the trade route was not traversed very often (or from the looks of it, in years) the road had fallen into disrepair. Some times two days in a row the trails were lost in the forest beyond the mountains. 

But by far the worse was the desert. There was nothing but sand for miles with the rare outcroppings of tall rocks that reached pointed to the sky like accusing fingers. That is, if you could see them. The winds were constant and came from every which direction. Sandstorms and dust devils were all too common. There was hardly any food or water. There was the occasional oasis; we came across only three I think. We filled buckets and canteens, making sure they were covered before heading off again. The journey through the wasteland had hit Cyrus particularly hard. With no plants aside from the leevers I managed to catch; He had become gaunt and listless. 

But the eyes regained some of their brightness and hope as he looked to me questionably, the storm beginning to die down. I nodded when the winds died down. He followed me as I stepped out of the shadow of the rocks.

It was like another world.

The winds had stopped. Completely. Not a single grain of sand stirred. It was quiet too, relief for my battered ears but strangely unsettling. The winds had been constant up till then. Cyrus fidgeted when I tried to mount him. He pranced about in a circle to avoid me once I got to his side. Suddenly, he let loose another ear-splitting scream, his eyes wild and looking out behind me. I spun around, to face whatever danger might befall us this night. 

At first, it seemed relatively harmless. It looked like a cloud on the horizon in the direction we came from, close to the ground, spanning as far as the eye could see. It was a light purple and seemed to glow with the light of the moon. Lightning laced across its surface like a varicose veins. It was coming our way, billowing like smoke from a cauldron, and fast. 

__

What the…That's just not right…Ignoring Cyrus' protest; I swung onto his back and dug my heels into his side. We raced across the sands, normally silver in the moonlight, but now violet from the glow of the cloud which seemed to stretch a three-hundred feet high. I felt some sort of drag from it, like a force pulling us back towards it. There was no way to out run it! A deafening roar filled our ears as it came ever closer. It was on us! Everything was engulfed in the purple clouds. I screamed until the air was sucked from my lungs. Cyrus stumbled and fell, taking me down with him. And then there was nothing but inky, welcoming darkness...

***

There was a puff of air at my face and the sting of the sand. My eyelids felt like they weighed a million pounds but somehow I managed to open them. I was on my side, half buried in the sand; the moon was high in the sky above me. There was a large black horse with his nostrils by my head, checking me over urgently. 

I got up, my legs shaking, threatening to buckle beneath me. Instinctively I griped the horse's empty saddle to keep from falling. My head spun and my body ached all over. 

And I knew nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

__

…Who's horse is this? I asked myself, it was as if my mind had gone blank.

(this is your horse,) The answer came almost immediately, like a little voice deep within my self-conciseness, (his name is cyrus.)

__

…Who am I then? Why am I here in this god-forsaken wasteland?

(your name is julia salem, daughter of dimtri salem who was a smithy in guinness. you left because of a dangerous civil war, taking your search to hyrule, seeking peace and wealth.) 

__

…Really?

(yes)

Upon demand, seventeen years worth of memories flooded forth. My loving mother setting dinner before my Damitri and I. Helping my father later with a sword, the one that I would later yield myself. Training Cyrus as yearling colt. Watching the knights over the castle walls, trying to train as they did. Looking on with fear as the same knights clashed on a bloodstained field. Watching my home burned and pillaged. My mother's scream of angst and terror as men dragged her off into the woods, grinning broadly. My sword stained red to the hilt with the blood of former countrymen. 

Yet, none of this seemed odd. No. Listening to the little voice in the back of my head seemed perfectly natural. It died as soon as everything was answered though, and I soon forgot that it had ever existed. In fact, there was never a little voice. The feeling of confusion and bewilderment was gone as well. My mind accepted it without question. 

The horse--Cyrus, whom I had known the last five years of his existence, pressed his satin nose to my cheek reassuringly, telling me it was time to move on again. 

But I still felt very weak. Things swung in and out of focus in a dizzying manner, almost like being drunk. Yet somehow I managed to crawl up into the saddle, hugging the stallion's neck. The winds were wild (once more) and threatened to topple my failing balance. After all the time on the trail, it had become my habit to sleep in the saddle. Cyrus had trained himself to plod along without the guidance of his rider and maintain the same course.

At some point he stopped. I was roused from my sleep when the soothing motion stopped. I looked up. There were two blurry sources of light in the distance. They illuminated a pass between two cliffs, in which a huge gate had been constructed. Cyrus wined and pawed at the sand, backing up a bit. Then, like coiled springs suddenly released he sailed over a gap in the sand. I could barely see anymore but the lights were getting closer, if somewhat dimmer. It was then that I slipped out of the stirrups. I fell to the ground with a thud right outside of the gates. A dull faraway pain shot through my arm. _That's gonna hurt in the morning,_ I thought absentmindedly. There were voices, they were in another language--or maybe they weren't, I couldn't tell. There was the shriek of Cyrus and screams of confusion and fear.

"…I…"

The darkness overtook me again. 

Oooh! Amnesia then reprogramming! How original! Like I said, I hate this damn chapter and I promise I won't ever do it again…


	7. Sieben

Here's that long-ass chapter, I couldn't see where to split it up. 

Epona plodded along at an easy pace, the hooves leaving imprints in the red earth of Gerudo Valley. The female guard recognized me and waved me past the checkpoint and into the fortress. The off-white adobe structure looked like some children's toy block set, only riddled here and there with open entrances and cubby-hole windows. It didn't look like much of a fortress but the Gerudo didn't need protection of walls, it had been hell to fight them in the old days just as they were--or, the days which never existed, whatever. 

A few of the guards whispered to one another behind their hands as I passed, snickering. I felt the back of my ears turn red, shaking it off and resisting the urge to jump from the saddle and break their necks. It was always this way it seemed, whenever I was out in the open when people were observing me, or ignored me completely, never seemed to fail. 

__

Not my fault I'm like this, I thought to myself bitterly, fuming, I had always had a pretty bad temper, even though I could suppress my anger for a good deal of time, but it didn't keep me from screaming inside. _To hell with all of them._

"Cripple," I heard someone whisper, it was cruel and hollow sounding, followed by whooping laughter. 

Snap. 

I wheeled Epona around in furry to find half a dozen guards all examining me haughtily, their eyes; the only feature visible from the veils, seemed to glow mirthlessly. There was nothing I could do against a group so large--especially when left with nothing but a bow, I wouldn't be able to draw back the string before one of them cut my throat. It was an insult, but it wasn't worth getting killed for.

But it _hurt_…

In an increasingly foul mood, I rode up the path to the archery course. At the far end was a stable with construction very similar to the fortress with one level and half-doors covering the wide entrances, there must have been fifty in total. 

A small pen had been constructed from odd lengths of wood. But the pen didn't interest me, it was its occupant. A black stallion; perhaps about fifteen hands high trotted in a tight circle, the mane and erect tail billowing like windswept flames. The long neck ended in a small and savagely beautiful head. He was no warhorse, that was for sure. The stallion lacked the stature and build for taking a man fully clad in armor into battle. But he had all the trademark features of a racer, the springy action in the knees, the deep chest. I rode closer. The wide nostrils flared and he reared, striking and unusual cobalt-blue eyes flashing. 

"I'd stay away from him if I were you, he's broken two arms already." A tall and slender Gerudo was leaning against the adobe. She looked at me with a curious smirk as I dismounted. "What brings you this far out, rancher?"

"I came to get the new brood mare." I said quietly, beating the red dust off my brown shirt. 

Her brows furrowed. "Brood mare?"

"Yes. The gray mare with the white socks? The money was sent to you last week in advance."

She shook her head.

"We sent it to you with Ingo!" I said, raising my voice slightly, starting to get angry. I didn't have the patience or the time to haggle with the gerudo, they would always try to worm there way out of the offer, but I wasn't about to be had today. 

"Ingo?" She questioned, rubbing her neck. "Yeah, he was here, I saw him in the bar at the Gorge with a big money pouch, looks like he spent near all of it, half on liquor and half on women--none of ours, of course." She added, obviously trying to rid the idea that their race consisted of desert whores. Fat chance.

"Damn it," I cursed under my breath, lowering my eyes, it was exactly the sort of thing the lonely boozehound would do. I looked back to her pleadingly. "Do you think I could take the horse now and pay you back later?"

"Sorry, we just don't operate that way," She said softly. She was one of the most kind-hearted gerudo I had ever met but there was a tone in her voice that said the matter was not up for negotiation. I sighed, looking elsewhere. 

Something caught my eye, a crowd in the distance on the other side of the archery course, coming towards us.

"What's going on?" I asked her, without letting my gaze leave the group of twenty or so women, and one lone figure between them clad head to toe in black that was being jerked forward among them. She waved her hand unconcernedly, like brushing a fly from her face.

"Oh, they're just executing a prisoner--"

"I thought the treaties banned the gerudo from taking prisoners, much less executing them," I interrupted. Blackmail might work. 

"That only applies to residents of Hyrule."

Damn. No such luck. But it was an interesting matter. "…He's not from around here?" I asked, blinking in surprise, it was very rare that anyone--and I mean _anyone _got though the desert alive. 

"No. And for the record, it's a woman." 

I blinked again, rarer still. "Did she come in with anyone?" I asked, assuming she got separated from a passing caravan. It was unheard of for anyone to brave the desert alone. There was safety and survival in numbers. Lone travelers in the desert died in numerous ways; starvation, thirst, exhaustion, leevers, quicksand, sometimes the bodies weren't discovered until years later and by then it was nearly impossible to tell who they had been and where they were from. 

"No," She said, gesturing to the horse, which had quieted, gazing intently on the crowd intently and drawing breath quickly though wide trembling nostrils. "That's her only partner, that I know of. She came here about a week ago, barely got inside the gates before falling off and passing out. Horse raised a big fuss, wouldn't let us anywhere near her 'til we roped it and brought it here, breaking a few arms in the processes. She cooperated 'til this morning when one of the guards told her what the punishment for trespassing is…" She shrugged. "But it'll all be over shortly anyway."

I frowned, it didn't seem like the most just thing to do. After all, she was probably weak with hunger, harmless, battered and scared. And considering all she did was trod on desert grounds…that was probably an accident anyway.

Suddenly, there was commotion in the crowd, yells and screams of anger, surprise and confusion. The prisoner had broken loose! She was making a mad dash my way towards the horse. From out of nowhere, guards came pouring out of the stables; jumping from the roofs and from inside the horse stalls. Even the gerudo I was speaking with lanced her scythe forward, blade pointing to the prisoner's chest. 

She halted, about fifteen feet from the guard and the semi-circle that had advanced forward, their various blades ready to rip her apart if she continued, the gerudo behind her quickly closed the gap.

She was tall for a woman, nearly as tall as myself (though I was never all that long-boned to begin with), and a few years younger. Slender, almost dreadfully thin as well, which could probably be attributed to wandering the desert without proper nourishment. Her skin was recovering from a sunburn, with the beginnings of hollows from starvation under the eyes and cheekbones. A slight breeze tugged at her long black cloak and roughly sheared raven black hair that fell slightly past her shoulders. The baggy shirt beneath the cloak left everything to the imagination but her leggings revealed her sculpted and lean legs--black as well. Her black outfit was a striking contrast to the red-orange of the surrounding earthen walls. 

She wasn't like Zelda or Malon, the ranch girl, but she was not in any sense less pretty. She lacked their fair and delicate ways to take on a more dark, mysterious and exotic feel, with a less angular face and full lips that could tempt a saint. The most striking thing about her where her eyes, which seemed to have the same hue of her horse's blue. They were haunting and unnerving, hard to meet the gaze of and even harder to look away. They bore the stern glare of hard times and tragedy. Those rich, compelling, yet strangely unreadable eyes, which seemed to hide a thousand secrets, all of them tainted, behind a wall of cold blue steel. A savage fire burned within their depths, practically radiating anger, hatred and injustice. 

In her lithe and calloused hand a dagger was arched, long and wickedly sharp. 

For an instant, those cold blue eyes met mine. Somewhere I saw my former self in them--recklessly brave and far too stubborn for my own good. I looked to her sympathetically. _Drop it…_I pleaded silently, _I can get you out of this, just don't kill anyone…_

Those eyes narrowed slightly, and then almost if my thoughts had an audible voice, the blade slipped through her fingers to glitter dully in the dust as she kicked it towards me. At once she was shoved roughly from behind, she landed on her knees, hair falling to shield her face like a curtain--or a burial shroud. Her arms were grasped then tied behind her back at the wrists, as were her ankles, it was apparent that they were taking no second chances. Her shoulders jerked as she tested her bonds, but she didn't utter a sound. The horse reared and plunged against the padlock, making the most awful whistling scream that I had ever heard. But even under the force of those sharp hard hooves the enclosure held. 

The sunlight glared harshly off a scimitar, arched high over the executioner's head. She grinned nastily, eyes gleaming brightly, hungry for blood. But that all changed very quickly. The guard yelped suddenly, her blade joining the knife on the ground as she clutched her wrist in pain, staggering backwards towards her sisters. Puzzled, she withdrew a feathered dart, the needle so fine that it didn't even draw blood from her wrist.

"Next time there might be poison in it. With your behavior, I'd watch my steps!" A voice called from above. A gerudo stood high atop a rock outcropping. At first one might guess that she had an obsession with jewels, for her fingers were covered with rings, arms weighed down with bracelets and neck adorned with heavy golden chains. Even the band that tied back her hair was crowned with a ruby the size of a fist. But if you looked past all of that you would find that she had the strength needed to support all of it. Under one arm she had something long shrouded with cloth. In the other hand she carried a flute that I had seen skullkids in the lost woods that doubled as a dart tube. 

With the grace of a tigress, she leapt down and landed lightly on her feet. Only the startled guard, myself and the prisoner remained motionless, the rest of the gerudo bowed lowly and shuffled out of the way as she slowly parted the circle of guards. 

"Nannaki?" The woman asked, certain sharpness to her voice. The executioner bowed clumsily. 

"Nabooru," She murmured, "You honor us with your--"

"I don't feel like being praised like a goddess today. Nor," She looked to the prisoner, who had not moved an inch. "Did I give you the power to deliver capital punishment. You insult me."

The guard looked up, hurt. It was every gerudo's dream to win the Queen's favor, and clearly things were not going well. "Please, I had no idea, I assumed it was your wish for the prisoner to be--"

"Ah, you assume! When you do so it makes an _ass _out of_ 'u' _and _me._" She paused briefly, delighting in her wit. "Therefore, the prisoner shall be given the chance to prove herself in battle."

The prisoner's head jerked up for the first time, the hair fell back from her face to reveal eyes glinting with curious suspicion. 

"Fine with me," The dark one mumbled, glaring daggers at the guard. 

Nannaki looked almost insulted at the prospect. "…With the prisoner?" She questioned slowly. Nabooru nodded, as one would to a small child.

She then knelt down, removing the cloth from a beautiful silver broadsword with some sort of stone where the blade met the hilt. There was a symbol on it that I had only seen once before in an ancient textbook Raru had in his private bookshelf. It meant something in old hyrulian script, he had told me long ago, but I had since forgotten. Its hand guard reminded me of an almost skeletal version of the Master Sword, like the stylized wings had been reduced to bony fingers. I hoped I could examine it later.

She cut the woman's bindings and offered her a hand up. She got up on her own, but murmured low and quiet thanks as Nabooru gave her the sword. It balanced nicely in very good control. At that point it wouldn't have surprised me if she had been born with it in her hand. Nannaki fled to the other side of the makeshift arena and the Gerudo Queen left quickly to join her people. The circle broadened a little, giving the two a wide berth. 

As she had before, the former prisoner surprised me with her stillness. She stood in wait, her shoulder offered to her opponent, the sword hanging limply at her side, the tip embedded in the soft earth. Nannaki had her sword arched high over head, other arm far out in front of her with the fingers spread, poised like a dancer and shifting her weight from toe to toe. The dark woman smirked, not at all intimidated or impressed it seemed. The gerudo gritted her teeth, taking the lack of interest as a very personal insult. 

She shrieked, jumping forward, ready to cut off the woman's arm. With great speed she brought the sword up and deflected the blow, I had hardly even seen her move. She resumed her position as the gerudo stumbled back in surprise, just standing there, eyes mischievous. Nannaki was more hesitant this time but she attacked soon enough. The blade of the silver sword flashed again to block the blow, the gerudo throwing her weight behind it. The woman held on, forcing the gerudo back even. She growled and kicked out with her foot, making the gerudo jump back and barely have time to recover and block a viscous attack. Her blade flashed mercilessly, it seemed to be everywhere at once, so fast some times that I had a hard time seeing it.

"Did you forget where I lived?" Someone whispered beside me. I looked over to see Nabooru at my right, watching the battle intensely.

"Well…I…Umm…" I stammered, unsure of what to say. She chuckled slightly.

"It's alright, Link, I know we're not exactly in the same gung-ho save the world routine anymore." She said, completely dropping her regal stature. She glanced at me sidelong. "Do you miss it?"

Miss it? Miss the nightmares? Miss risking my life every hour of the day to save those too ignorant to save themselves? Miss waking up, every morning, still exhausted, and wondering if that day would be my last? Miss bandaging my wounds while I bit down on my gauntlet to avoid screaming and alerting those nearby? Miss the slick, sticky feeling of blood cloying my hands? Knowing that in some cases it wasn't my own? Miss the guilt? Miss seeing everyone I knew die, mentally and physically? Miss…Ganondorf? _Yes, Nabooru, everything was just peachy back then _I wanted to say to her. 

But, I immediately felt guilty for even letting my own personal accounts get the best of me. What I went though was nothing compared to Nabooru. She had been a slave for seven years, not even in control of her own thoughts and emotions as she slaughtered who ever was in the way of her captors. She had seen her sisters die too, either in battle, by Ganondorf's fits of rage and sometimes even by her own blade. Ganondorf. Goddesses only knew what that bastard had put her though. She had lost a husband and gained a monster when he had quietly gone off to desert decades ago to investigate something within the sands. He wondered how much of the queen's heart that bastard still kept. 

I shrugged. "…I do get assignments from time to time, but they're not exactly the most exciting things…more like little chores, extermination jobs…"

She nodded in understanding then looked back out to the two combating warriors. "You used to fight like that…" she commented. I frowned slightly.

"I was…no, I _am _better, I could have killed your lackey by now…"

"Could have, Link, could have…you're not the man you used to be…"

"I can still fight with the best of 'em." I said stubbornly, but knew she was probably right. It had been a long time since I had been anywhere near tip-top fighting shape. 

Sighing, I looked back to the match. The woman was good, very good; she clearly had the better skills, more agile and knew all the little dirty tricks. Every blow the Gerudo made, she blocked. When Nannanki was completely on the offensive, trying desperately to get past the outsider's defense, she swiped back at her, knocking past her whirling blade, and slapping her hard with the flat of her own steel across the stomach, knocking her to the ground. 

The fight paused momentarily. Nannaki grinned devilishly and jerked her arm, allowing a spring-loaded blade nearly nine inches long to appear in her hand from under her sleeve. The crowd gasped but did nothing to stop her as she lunged at her opponent, the tearing of fabric could be heard. 

The black-clad woman grimaced slightly; there was a rip in the forearm of her shirt, dust on the material around it engulfed in blood. But she didn't seem to care. The Gerudo had left herself open, and realized it far too late. She brought up the flat of her blade again, and knocked the other female across the head with it, hard enough to cause her eyes to roll back in her head. The dark one did not skip a beat, sword lancing out to knock her to the ground, ending with the tip of her blade nearly touching her throat, ready to embed it into the exposed and vulnerable flesh.

Cliffhanger! Haha! *grins maniacly* Anywho, take a gander at http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=745560 (cut n' paste, since html code doesn't work for links). Rai Doriane's Song of the Sorceress. Pretty damn good, 'specialy since it's not one of those damn game show fictions and someone actually put effort into it ("hi, i wrote this cuz I was borde. its not really good--and I can't take my sweet time to spell worth a shit--but plz r/r") 


	8. Acht

A shortie. Ok, so some people are probably thinking, "what the hell? An update after this long," so I guess I need some sort of explanation. I was watching the Super BowlÔ , slightly surly, close to falling asleep. I wasn't planning on watching it because I'm a Redskin's fan, but since there were so many former 'Skins it was almost like my team was there. So while I was bordering sleep they kept calling out the name of the Raiders quarterback about every two minutes (who was a benchwarmer for us at some point. So the name 'Gannon' was branded into my mind and when I woke up, I thought to myself 'Damn it, I've a few Zelda fics that I never finished, and there's at least one or two people that like Shadow Walker, why don't I work on that some more?' So here it is, Shadow Walker is back into the picture.

…Oh, and I got kinda bored after I woke up, so here's a portrait I drew of Julia. Cut n' paste, since link tags are stripped:

http://community.webshots.com/photo/43596171/61934968tLpFGx

Admittedly, I'm a better artist then an author…

__

____________

Finish it, something sinister in my mind hissed, _finish it now, let her blood spill just as she would have done to you…_I shook my head slowly in response. But I did not back down. No, not after all the shit I went through. I looked back at her with what I hoped was cold fury, and she seemed to shrink back. Her eyes were sharp with fear and the pain and humiliation of a lost battle. That was all the satisfaction I needed. I left it at that. Without a word, I withdrew my sword from her neck and stepped back from her. A gasping sob escaped her, and let her head fall back against the sand, closing her eyes and breathing raggedly.

I couldn't help but smirk. It felt good to have the upper hand now and then. The power of life and death was intoxicating, but I didn't let it get to me; there were more important things to take care of. 

Looking back to crowd, I saw that most of them were standing about in absolute shock, I took it that they didn't get beat at their own game too often. But the man over there with the lady that I took to be the warrior women's leader was looking at me quite differently. He was viewing me with calculating shrewdness, like he was trying to figure me out. Didn't care too much though. Hell, he was nothing to me anyway, his clothing suggested that he was a farmer or something along those lines. 

"This was a fight to the death, foreigner," the woman who had been a mere inch from death said thickly. "Our queen would have been satisfied with either of our deaths."

I didn't say anything. 

"Yet you have shown her mercy," said someone from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see the woman with the many jewels. The circle of women had broke, and, once they saw that there was no more excitement to be had in the battle, they were all returning to their various duties.

"I guess you could say that," I replied, turning to face her. "Would you have really killed me?"

"For the sport of it, yes, I would have had you killed, it has been many a year since we have seen any sort of excitement," she answered, shrugging, her jewelry clinking together as she did so. "But because _I_ was unaware of your imprisonment, and therefore not the one to order your execution, I thought it would be fair to give you the chance to prove yourself. If it had not been for my intervention, you would have surely been beheaded. But now that I've seen such a performance, I'll let you live. It'd be a shame if you were to die by an unworthy hand."

I wasn't really sure what to make of that. "Thank you for your kindness…uh…"

"Nabooru," she supplied, smiling, handing me my scabbard. The man, the only one I had seen since arriving, walked over. He limped; it seemed that his right leg was a full two inches shorter then his left. He came to stand behind the woman who called herself Nabooru, observing me from over her shoulder. I wasn't sure why, but there was something…different about this man. Perhaps he was more then just a simple farmer. He had finely pointed ears, which was strange enough, then I remembered that Hyrule was one of the few elven kingdoms. He was somewhere in his early twenties, his blond hair was tied back, and his completion was fair. He definitely did not live here--the sun would have burnt him to a crisp. His dark blue eyes were cold, hard and sharp as my sword.

"Who are you and why did you come here, girl?" the warrior woman asked. 

"My name is Julia Salem, I come from the country of Guinness from across the desert," I answered without hesitation. The answers came fluidly. "There's a power struggle for the throne between King Lethane and a lesser lord, war across the land. I wasn't too keen on getting raped and killed, so I left."

"You must be tough indeed," she remarked, "I have never heard of anyone crossing the desert unaided."

"I had my horse." The horse in question, threw back his head and made that shrill, piercing scream that assaulted our ears. The elf-man flinched, along with many others nearby. "He got me out of more scrapes then I can count. I'd appreciate it if you were to release him as well."

She nodded then issued a command in another language that I didn't recognize. A woman rushed to the enclosure, hurriedly unlatching it should he take a fancy to bite her, then flung open the gate. As docile as an child's pony, Cyrus came out, trotting lazily to me. I placed a gentle hand on his velvet nose, and he grunted affectionately. 

"Remarkable animal as well," she said, "My woman are some of the finest riders and trainers ever to grace the land, but not one of them could come anywhere near him." Her tone turned serious once more. "And exactly what are you going to do in this land?"

"I don't know yet," I said honestly, shrugging as I put the scabbard in it's rightful place at my side. "I haven't given it much thought." 

"We could always use an extra sword, but I don't think we could find the room to accommodate you."

She lied through her teeth. I had seen the state that their fortress was in as hey had brought be up from the cell. Half of the rooms were empty, and parts were falling into disrepair. I had the impression that there had been many more of them at one point, but now their numbers had been cut considerably.

"That's alright, milady Nabooru. I'm sure I'll find something."

She looked doubtful. "I don't know. You've arrived at a rather poor place, girl. Jobs are hard to find for foreigners." 

"I'll find something."

She looked rather doubtful, and, admittedly, I felt the same way. What work was there for a woman? Prostitution was a last resort, and thievery was out of the question. But then her face lit up with a bright smile, her white teeth a striking contrast with the darkness of her skin. 

"Link, why don't you take her?"

The man behind her jumped as he was addressed. He had obviously thought that she didn't know he was there, though I got the impression that little escaped her. She turned to him, and I took my queue to stand at her side, the black stallion breathing into my cloak, picking at strands of my ill-kept hair with his lips. 

He scowled, his eyes becoming all the more colder. "You can't be serious."

"Why not? You could always use an extra hand at the ranch, am I right?"

"No," he said firmly. "we turned down two strong and able lads just last week. We don't need and can't afford--"

"Please, Link?" she crooned stroking his cheek with her long, nimble fingers. He looked away. 

"Not a chance," he said forcefully.

"It's OK, really, I'll be--" I was completely ignored. Of course, I'd take all the help I could get, but it really wasn't necessary. 

"I'll throw in the gray mare," the woman offered softly. 

He met her eyes again quickly. His demeanor had changed like a flipped coin. "Deal."

"You still must pay for her, but I can delay payment."

"Fine, fine," he grumbled. "I will. It'll give me a chance to speak with Talon about Ingo." He looked pointedly at me. "But if you do anything to get me into bad favor with the ranch owner, I'll have your hide. Is that understood?"

I was taken aback by his coldness. What in hell had I ever done to him? I had the mind to tell him he could take his damn job and shove it up his ass. But I held my tongue, he had some use apparently, and I intended to exploit him to the fullest. 

"Yes, of course, sir," I said, my voice and face carefully blank. "Thank you for your charity."

Nabooru nodded in approval. "Good, now with that settled, I'll have someone fetch the mare, and you two can be on your way."

He took another hard look at me, then turned on his heel and limped off. I replaced my sword with a soft _shing,_ sighing. 

"I don't know whether to thank you or curse you, milady," I told Nabooru. 

"Don't worry," she answered, placing a friendly hand on my shoulder. "He's alright, really. Link's bitter, he has been betrayed too many times, perhaps, seen too many things." She glowered, her full lips pressing into a firm line as she looked off towards the Northwest. "But he knows and means well. He'll make sure that nothing ill becomes of you."

I sighed again, and prayed to whatever gods there were still left in the world that our trip and our time together would be short. 

But the gods hated me and they always had.


	9. Story will be discontinued for a while

This is a note of sorts. I've decided to switch over to a third-person POV, which means that I'll be re-witting all of the chapters present. A slow process, but hopefully, I can make the story a little better and more detailed. So for the three-odd people that are actually reading this, you'll have to re-read part of it, though it won't be necessary. Look for edited chapters soon.


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